


Feels Like Coming Home

by Butterynutjob



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) RPF
Genre: AU - James is not married, Art, Drug Abuse, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, The Ruling Class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-30 10:09:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3932782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterynutjob/pseuds/Butterynutjob
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael surprises his friend James by showing up in the audience at the sold-out last performance of The Ruling Class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feels Like Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> I have been a great admirer of alby_mangrove's art for a while and was very pleased when they agreed to a collaboration!
> 
> (Thank you for asking me, Butterynutjob! Loved working on this with you <3, alby)

_Saturday, April 11, 2015_

The closing performance of "The Ruling Class" was about five minutes along before James saw Michael in the audience.

Not that Michael was trying to hide. He was sitting in the second row, long legs sprawled, with a big shit-eating grin on his face.

James didn't break character, but Michael knew James had seen him by the way his eyes widened infinitesimally as they made eye contact for about half a second. Michael felt an odd sense of pride in James that his performance didn't falter a bit...although it might have been flattering if it had.

Michael was glad that he was not falling asleep, too, as he expected jet lag to kick in any second. He had just arrived on a plane from San Francisco a few hours before the show began, determined to see the closing night performance of a show that had been sold out for months. It was pure luck that Michael found a scalper out front who actually had a valid ticket.

It was a rare treat for him to be able to just watch James do what he did best. The amount of energy his Scottish friend displayed was truly amazing. James was running around the stage, wearing less and less clothes in every scene, it seemed, and Michael felt a part of himself that he knew he had to deal with pretty soon wanting even those last remaining bits of clothing on James to just go away.

Despite the distraction of James' flesh, Michael found himself getting absorbed in the story. It was a testament to James' acting abilities that Michael could forget, for a few moments, that the insane man being depicted onstage was actually Michael's slightly-less-insane best friend.

Well, he thought of James as his best friend. They'd never really talked about that directly, though.

Michael didn't seek out James at intermission, knowing that James may have costumes changes or rituals that Michael didn't want to interfere with. The second half of the show was much darker than the first half, and Michael found to his mortification that he was starting to fall asleep and suddenly he was _in_ the show he was watching, and it wasn’t Jack's aunt that was being fingered, it was Michael...

Michael's head snapped up with a start. He pinched himself hard on the thigh and hoped to God that James hadn't seen him drift off. He would be teased mercilessly, or worse, James would be offended.

After the show, Michael lingered a little too long looking at the woman outside selling bouquets of flowers. No, he wasn’t going to buy flowers for James. That was far too...sentimental.

The elderly usher politely explained that he could wait by the outside stage door if he wanted to see Mr. McAvoy and Michael used his puppy-doggiest eyes to ask if she would please tell him that Michael Fassbender wanted to come backstage. He had barely finished speaking when James yanked open the door and broke into a huge grin upon seeing Michael. He grabbed Michael’s wrist and pulled him into the backstage area to the startlement of the usher, then half-hugged, half-climbed Michael, who couldn’t help laughing at James’ exuberance.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” James exclaimed. “I thought you couldn’t come because of that Steve Jobs thing in California!”

Michael shook his head. “We wrapped early. And, I saw you announce the Olivier nominations last month, and I had to see if you were really all that for myself.” Michael grinned. One of the nominations James had announced was his own nomination for Best Actor for his portrayal of Jack in the Ruling Class.

“You _know_ I’m all that, better than anyone,” James said, laughing. How did he manage to make everything sound like an innuendo?

James indicated Michael should follow him to his dressing room, and the two men walked in together. “I can’t believe you didn’t bring me flowers,” James said with a smirk.

Michael’s mouth opened and closed again. Fortunately, he didn’t have to come up with a snappy response, because James kept talking.

“How long have you been in London, then, without calling me?” James demanded, as he took his shirt off. He was thinner than Michael had ever known him to be, trim and muscular. Michael averted his eyes when he realized he had been looking a little too long.

In fact, he was distracted enough that he answered honestly. “A few hours,” he said. In fact, twenty-four hours before, he had not even even known he was coming himself.

James stopped changing with his pants unzipped and looked at Michael. “A few _hours?_ Wait. I thought you were supposed to be in Montreal for X-men the same day as me, this Monday?”

“Yes,” Michael admitted, feeling his cheeks heat up - and not just because James had resumed lowering his pants. He was not wearing underwear, Jesus Christ.

“How many costumes have you ruined being a true Scot?” Michael couldn’t help but say. The joke about “being a true Scot” as an old one, referring to men who didn’t wear underwear under their kilts.

James gave him a slow and far-too-sexy grin. “It’s closing night, mate. I can ruin all the costumes I feel like.”

“I’ll help ruin a few, if you are really committed to it,” Michael said, grinning back. He wasn’t sure what he meant by that.

James laughed, buck naked and completely unselfconscious about it. “I’ve missed you, man! I still don’t understand exactly why you’re here, but I don’t want to look a gift Fass in the mouth.” He winked at Michael because of course he’d slipped another innuendo into their conversation before he grabbed a pair of jeans and stepped into them, still commando. “Hey! Tonight. Do you want to go to the cast party with me?”

What Michael actually wanted to do was curl up on a comfy couch with James and have a couple beers and watch stupid television that they could make fun of. “Thanks for the invitation, but...I’m pretty jet-lagged. I should probably go to my hotel.”

“You did look pretty tired in the audience tonight,” James said meaningfully and Michael realized his slip into unconsciousness had indeed been noticed by his friend.

“Ahh...sorry about that. I was having a very disturbing dream, if it’s any consolation,” Michael said with a faint smile.

“How disturbing?” James asked him, putting a shirt on.

“Mmm. Let’s just say I was Jack’s aunt,” Michael responded with an awkward laugh.

James looked at Michael with suggestively raised eyebrows. “That’s disturbing to you, is it?”

“Well, it is if you kill me after,” Michael said, because that’s what happened to Jack’s aunt in the show after Jack fingered her. Michael was just a little too happy with James’ laughter after that.

“What hotel are you staying at?” James asked him after a moment.

“Erm, well, I haven’t decided yet,” Michael said uncomfortably.

James was about to run a comb through his hair, looking at himself in the mirror, when he stopped and looked at Michael instead. “Wait. Are you saying you flew here direct from San Francisco to stay two days, and then fly to Montreal, and you don’t even have a hotel room booked?”

Filming had finished on the Steve Jobs biopic two days before it was supposed to. The director had clapped Michael on the shoulder and told him he could ‘go home for a bit’. But since Michael had just come back from several months in Australia before he was in California, and now he would be in Montreal for three months or so, he had put his stuff in storage and given up his apartment over half a year ago. The word home didn’t have much meaning to him, and although he supposed it would have made sense to go directly to Montreal, when he realized that he could just barely, possibly, be able to see James in the Ruling Class he found himself buying a plane ticket online before he had really thought everything through.

But all he said in answer to James’ question was, “No.”

James looked at him for about ten seconds before he said. “Right. You’re staying with me.”

 

 

“Okay,” Michael said with a smile.

“Michael, honestly, I insist.”

“I said okay.”

“I’m serious, Michael, don’t fight me on this.”

Michael laughed loudly in a way he hadn’t in - well, it felt like months. It was probably the last time he had hung out with James. James grinned at him and he grinned back, feeling happily idiotic in the best way.

**

It was incredible how full of energy James was. He insisted Michael ride double on his motorbike and insisted that Michael take the helmet. Michael wrapped his arms around James’ waist, feeling the warmth and trim musculature as James took corners too fast and they both howled about it. Michael’s adrenaline was running high by the time they pulled up at James’ flat.

“Is Cecilia here?” Michael asked as they walked inside.

“Ah. No,” James said with a funny smile. “We, ah, broke up a couple weeks ago.”

“Oh.” Cecilia was a bartender at a local bar that James had been dating for almost a year. James kept insisting it was ‘nothing serious’ but Michael knew the she had spent nearly every night with James, at least when he was in town. Michael didn’t want to pry...but he kind of did want to pry. “I’m sorry. I hope it was--amicable?”

James snorted. “Not so much. She, ah, found my ‘2007 Non tax-deductible receipts’ folder on my computer.”

Michael frowned in puzzlement. “What did you buy in 2007?”

James gave Michael a significant look. “That’s where I keep my porn, mate.”

“Oh!” Michael didn’t keep much porn on his computer - why bother, when it was so readily available on the internet - but what he did have was in a folder labelled ‘porn’. Of course, he didn’t have a girlfriend, let alone one who practically lived with him.

“Anyway, I’m gonnae shower, you are welcome to join me, and then I’ll go make an appearance--for, like, an hour or so--at that cast party and then come back here to catch up with you. If I’ve calculated your jet lag right you’ll be wide awake by the wee hours.” James winked at Michael.

Michael just looked at James with his mouth slightly ajar. “Did you say…?”

James laughed. “There’s a futon in the spare room but the couch in here is much more comfortable, to be honest.”

Michael remembered that James’ couch was very comfortable from having crashed on it before, several times in a drunken stupor. He sat on the couch while he wondered if James was joking about the shower comment. Of course he was joking. James was just an incorrigible flirt.

Michael hadn’t even realized he had drifted off to sleep, sitting up on the couch with his head leaning back, when James touched him gently on the knee. Michael’s eyes snapped open and he thought for a second he was dreaming when he saw James peering at him, his hair wet, his expression soft…

Michael shook his head sharply as it came back to him. “What? Did you say something?”

James gave him a slow grin, still touching Michael’s knee. “I said you should get some rest, and I’ll see you in a couple hours.” He nodded to a stack of bedding that had appeared next to Michael on the couch. “There’s a pillow and some blankets there. Help yourself tae anything in the refrigerator.” He squeezed Michael’s knee and then he was gone.

Michael lay down on the sofa lengthwise and tried to fall asleep again, but it was eluding him for some reason. He didn’t regret not going to the cast party with James; he really wasn’t in the mood to schmooze with people and deal with endless jokes about how everyone saw his dick in the movie Shame...but he missed James already.

His mind kept drifting to what James had looked like naked in his dressing room. He wondered how his hand would fit over James’ ass, or what James’ cock looked like when it was hard…

Michael shifted as he realized his own cock was growing hard. He thought about how James was expecting to socialize with him when he got back from the cast party and thought that considering he couldn’t stop thinking about James in a sexual context, it might be a good idea to have a wank now so he wouldn’t be under quite so much...pressure, later, with James here.

He sat up and adjusted himself. He usually watched porn when he jerked off, but he didn’t feel like dragging his laptop out...although of course James’ desktop computer was on his desk, only a few feet away. Michael remembered what James had said about Cecilia leaving him because she found his porn, and it suddenly occurred to him to wonder if James had odd or unusual tastes in porn. Because surely a woman wouldn’t leave just because a man watched porn, would she?

The more Michael thought about it the more he realized there probably _were_ women who didn’t want their boyfriends looking at any porn at all, but Michael didn’t think Cecilia was that type. She was a bartender, after all; not a blushing virginal flower. But apparently he’d been wrong...unless there was something about James’ porn she’d found disturbing.

Michael told himself it wasn’t a breach of trust as he sat down at James’ computer and woke it up by pressing the spacebar a few times. James had told him the exact folder his porn was in; surely he couldn’t be hiding anything _too_ embarrassing. Michael typed ‘2007 receipts’ in the search bar and found a folder called ‘2007 non-tax-deductible receipts’. He double-clicked on it, his throat feeling a little dry as he did so.

It was definitely porn, but most of it was very generic - pretty women wearing a lot of make-up giving enthusiastic blow-jobs, lots of pictures of asses ( _So James is as ass man,_ Michael mused.) and one folder just entitled MF. Michael clicked on that and what he saw made his pulse pound in his throat. It was filled with pictures of _him_ , Michael Fassbender, mostly naked or half-dressed. Some of the pictures were moving gifs.

 

 

Michael blinked a few times and tried to breathe evenly so his heart would stop feeling like it was going to pound out of his chest. He closed all the open folders on the computer. His mind was reeling. Pictures of him had been in James’ porn folder. James had jerked off to - pictures and clips of Michael?

Michael was too distracted by his rampaging thoughts to think about masturbating now, although his cock was still hard. Was James attracted to Michael? What other explanation was there? Maybe the folder had gotten moved in with all his other porn by accident...still, that didn’t explain why James would have had all that on his computer anyway.

He got up and went to the kitchen and helped himself to a beer in the fridge while his mind continued whirling. If James was attracted to Michael - which Michael could barely believe; he’d thought James was straight - but perhaps it meant that it was okay if Michael felt the same towards James?

But Michael wasn’t attracted to James...at least, he didn’t think of it in those terms. James was his best friend, the person he wanted to call when he got good news, the person he craved when he was lonely or sad...the person he wanted to get drunk with when he wanted to party. Michael felt more like he was in orbit around James, like a satellite, tethered by something like gravity to his Scottish friend.

But he also couldn’t get the image of James’ naked body out of his head. Or the way he felt a little bit lighter whenever he saw James’ eyes light up with laughter. Or the way James was always licking his lips, especially when Michael was talking, and how it made Michael want to...touch him, somehow, to nuzzle his neck and kiss his cheeks and explore every part of him...

It was like a punch to the gut when Michael realized. He wasn’t just attracted to James; he was in love with him.

Michael sat heavily on the couch, staring forward, drinking his beer almost robotically. He was in love with James McAvoy. That was bad. Wasn’t it? Even if James jerked off looking at pictures of Michael (a thought which brought Michael’s erection back), that didn’t necessarily mean he actually wanted to do anything sexual with Michael, and it was certainly not the same as being in love.

So Michael decided couldn’t tell James how he felt. He thought the risk of freaking James out or putting distance between himself and his best friend was too great. But...if James did want to get physical...Michael could do that, as long as he could keep his feelings to himself.

The idea that James might actually want to touch Michael, the way Michael wanted to touch James, was unbearably hot and Michael didn’t think he would be able to decline...even if it ended up hurting him more, down the road, when James was done experimenting and was back with a woman again.

Michael didn’t know how long it had been that he had been sitting in the dark on James’ sofa, his thoughts circling around him like a shark, when he heard the scratch of a key at the door. James came in a moment later, still a ball of ridiculous energy.

“Fassbender! Wake up! Oh, you’re awake, that’s good! Let’s go have a pint.”

Michael looked at James incredulously. James’ hair was mussed and there was a sheen of sweat on his skin. He was nearly vibrating with energy. But despite his excited exterior, his eyes had dark bags under them.

So much had changed in Michael’s mind in the past few hours that it was strange to look at James. He looked both different and achingly familiar at the same time. Michael tried to think what he should say, what he would have said a few hours earlier, before he realized he was in love with his best friend.

Michael shook his head with a rueful smile. “James, you did a show today and you just went to a closing cast party. How in the world do you still have the energy to go to a pub?”

James did not react the way Michael had expected to that question. Michael expected James to laugh and brush off the question, but instead James got a strange and unpleasant look on his face. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, mate.”

There was an awkward silence. James’ attitude had flipped instantly from manic to dark, and by the look on his face, James was as surprised by that as Michael was. His mouth moved and then he licked his lips and swallowed, clearly trying to think of something to say.

“Is there something…” Michael began, not knowing how to say what he wanted to, how to express to James that Michael cared but didn't judge, and that it was all fine, whatever it was. “...I should know?” Michael finally finished, feeling that the words were completely inadequate.

When James finally did speak, the words were nothing Michael had expected to hear. James cocked his head at Michael, curiously, and sucked in a quick breath. “Do you do blow?”

Michael’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Blow?” His mind immediately went to ‘blowjob’ but he realized that’s not what James meant within seconds. “You mean...coke?”

James just looked at him, not confirming or denying, his expression wary.

Michael let out a breath he didn’t know he been holding. “A couple times,” he admitted. “It made me feel…” he shook his head. “It’s not really my thing.” He tilted his head and looked at James thoughtfully, observing how tired he looked and yet how wired he was. “I take it you’ve...indulged, recently.”

James just breathed hard, looking at Michael intensely. “Tonight’s the last time,” he said in a quiet voice.

“I don’t judge you, James.” Michael’s words hung in the air between them and after a moment James’s breathing slowed down, although it still seemed shaky.

James smiled, just a small smile, and sat down heavily on the other end of the sofa, an arms-length from Michael. “Maybe I judge myself.”

“Your body, your choice,” Michael said, and was surprised to hear a crack of laughter from James.

“ _You_ don’t need this, though,” James said, his laughter dying down, not looking at Michael. “You’re bloody brilliant without any drugs.”

Michael didn’t understand what he had to do with anything. He felt like rejecting the compliment because next to James he didn’t feel brilliant at all.

He suddenly wanted to touch James so badly that he had to literally clench his fist to keep from reaching for the other man. “ _You’re_ brilliant, James. I don’t judge you for doing blow, but you don’t need it for that. I know that much.”

James let his head flop backwards onto the back of the couch and rolled his head towards Michael. The expression on his face was one of stark yearning. “Michael…” his hand reached and then fell to the couch, awkwardly.

Michael took James’ hand.

One part of Michael’s brain was screaming with shock, but physically the motion had felt so natural. James’ hand was warm, his palm slightly moist. Michael couldn’t look James in the eye, though, so he looked down at their hands. He didn’t let go, and James did not pull away.

James swallowed audibly in the quiet and dark room, and Michael’s eyes flicked to his face. The dim light from outside was such that Michael realized James probably couldn’t see Michael’s face except in silhouette, but he could see James’ face...and even in the dim lighting, the blue of James’ eyes was unreal, his expression hard to decipher, and yet achingly poignant.

Emboldened by the shroud of shadow, Michael kept his eyes on James’ face as he moved two fingers to the inside of James’ wrist. His pulse was fast, unsurprisingly. James inhaled softly at the motion and his mouth opened slightly. He licked his lips, preparing to speak, when Michael heard his own voice say, “Don’t tell me to stop.”

The words were gravelly and they surprised both men. James’ eyes widened slightly. It was what Michael had been thinking; words he’d been thinking so loudly that they slipped out. He snatched his hand away, his cheeks burning.

“I’m sorry,” Michael said, abruptly, wanting to drown in shame.

“Michael…” James let the word trail off. He did not say anything else, but after a moment Michael felt his eyes being drawn to James’ face and when he met James's eyes James said softly, “I wasn’t going to tell you to stop.”

Michael gazed at James and lifted his hand to tuck an errant lock of hair behind James’ ear. “You weren’t?”

James caught his hand and pressed it into his cheek, closing his eyes and turning his head to nuzzle into it. “No. I didn’t think you…” he trailed off. When he opened his eyes again, they were burning with a strange fierceness Michael didn't recognize.

“But I do,” Michael said, recklessly, not even sure what question he was answering. He wanted to kiss James but instinct or habit kept him from doing so. “I want…” he moved closer to James on the couch, moving his hand from James’ face to his neck, stroking the warm flesh there with his thumb.

James licked his lips. “What do you want?” he whispered.

Michael felt like he was unravelling. He could feel all his doubts, all his pre-conceived notions about sexuality and how he was supposed to feel unspooling and leaving him feeling breathless and terrifyingly free. An inappropriate chuckle burst out of his mouth. “I don’t know,” he admitted, and then heard himself say, “I found your porn.” Apparently honesty was part of his unspooling.

James went still. “You looked - on my computer?”

Michael closed his eyes, afraid he had just ruined everything. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...invade your privacy.”

He opened his eyes and James was looking at him thoughtfully, his brow slightly furrowed. “I’m the one who needs tae apologize,” he said after a moment. “You’re objectified all the time. I don’t want to you to think - I’m not - I don’t want to make you feel…” James let out a frustrated noise at his inability to communicate. “Sometimes telepathy would come in handy,” he said with a small smirk.

Michael frowned slightly, thoughtfully. “It didn’t make me feel bad,” he said. “I...it’s a good thing. I think. I just want…” Michael trailed off again, afraid to tell James too much.

But, one thing had fortunately become clear to both of them: they both _wanted._

Michael’s jaw went slack as James abruptly moved to straddle him. He looked at James’ face, hardly daring to breathe. Michael licked his lips. “Are we…?”

James looked down at Michael. “If I just seriously misinterpreted the situation, please tell me right now.”

Abruptly, Michael laughed loudly. He put his hands on James’ hips and smoothed them up his sides and back. “You didn’t--misinterpret. I want this.”

James smiled and slowly leaned forward to press his lips against Michael’s slightly parted ones. Michael’s mind was whirling. James had a beard, and Michael could feel the hairs pressing into his face; it should have felt strange, but it felt _right_. Michael dared to introduce his tongue to James’ lips and he felt James gasp and shudder above him when he did so.

Michael pulled James tighter against him, feeling the smaller man’s tight, trim body and enjoying every aspect of the experience - how different it was from touching a woman, and yet how incredibly sexy and arousing it was too.

James pulled back from the kiss, touching his forehead to Michael’s, breathing heavily, before pulling back to look Michael in the eye. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stop thinking - have you - been with a man before?”

Michael shook his head, reaching up to run his fingers through James’ hair. He felt like now that he had permission to touch his friend, he never wanted to stop. “No. Only - on jobs, in films, just kissing. What about you?”

James looked thoughtful. “The same. I’ve never...wanted a man before, not like I want you…”

The words went straight to Michael’s cock and he surged up to kiss James again, rougher this time, both of his hands in James’ hair. James moaned against his tongue and ground his hips on Michael’s lap, making Michael clench his fists unintentionally, pulling James’ hair. “Sorry,” he gasped, reluctantly breaking the kiss.

“Don’t be sorry, I liked it,” James said, his words hot and moist in the dark room, before leaning down to nuzzle and then bite at Michael’s neck. Michael put his hands back on James’ sides, clutching hard enough probably to bruise, until James relented biting and nuzzled upwards towards Michael’s ear.

Michael slid his hands up under James’ shirt, touching his flesh finally, feeling a deep satisfaction at the gasping sound James made to feel himself being touched without the barrier of fabric. Michael rucked up James’ shirt, wanting...he didn’t even understand what he wanted; really, he just wanted James.

“Can this go away?” He said, pushing impatiently up on James’ shirt, which was caught under his arms.

“Hang on,” James said with a breathless laugh, pulling back so that he could unbutton his shirt while Michael impatiently dragged his hands down James’ thighs. Michael watched as James' pale flesh appeared and he could not resist stroking his hands up to James' pert nipples when they appeared. James groaned and shifted on him, nuzzling at the shell of Michael's ear, running his teeth along the edge, making Michael shiver with delight.

James tugged Michael's shirt off next, which went more easily since it was a T-shirt. He ran his hands admiringly across Michael's chest and shoulders as he moved to taste Michael's neck and graze his teeth there as well.

For a moment, Michael had a strong feeling of surreality. Here he was, making out with his best friend, when he had never even felt attracted to a man before - not really, anyway. He wondered how long James had been thinking about Michael this way...Michael suddenly wondered if he was the cause of James' latest break-up. "So when you said Cecilia found your porn..."

James flinched. "Cecilia..." He sighed. "Yeah. She called me some names I'd rather not repeat and told me I wasn't man enough for her..." James chuckled lightly, self-deprecatingly, his lips still above Michael's ear. "Can't we talk about my drug problem instead?"

He obviously intended it to be a joke, but Michael stiffened and pulled back, looking searchingly into James' face. "Is it a problem?"

James had a smart-arse response on the tip of his tongue, but when he saw the painfully earnest look in Michael's eye he deflated. He pressed his lips together and shook his head. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I don't think so."

The mood had changed, and James slid back and off of Michael's lap. "I will admit that I was using for the wrong reasons," he said over his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen. Michael heard the refrigerator open, and James reappeared a moment later with a bottle of water. "But now that the show's done, and you're back..." James suddenly cleared his throat and looked away from Michael.

Michael frowned. "Now that I'm back?" he said, puzzled. "Me? What do I have to do with you doing drugs?"

James was leaning against the wall on the other side of the room. This time, it was his face that was in shadow. He didn't say anything for a moment, and Michael heard the water slosh in the plastic bottle as James took another sip of it. "You didn't think this came out of nowhere, did you?" James said quietly. "You...I think about you a lot. I'm...unhappy, without...I don't..." he shook his head.

Michael stood up and walked closer to James, his heart pounding. "You don't what?"

"I don't..." James faltered again as Michael came to stand right in front of him. From this close, he could see James' features better. "I don't want to - scare you. With how much...I like you." The words were barely whispered.

Michael could barely breathe. This was more than he had dared hope for. "James...I...not an hour ago, I was sitting on your couch trying to figure out if I would be okay just being physical with you. Because I had an epiphany earlier tonight - I realized that...well..."

James was looking at him, James was so close, he was _here,_ he wanted Michael and he liked Michael and it was still hard to say that he loved him. "I was in Australia for months, and then California. They are beautiful places and I should have been enjoying them...but all I could think is, I can't wait to tell James about this. Or I wish James was here to see this. Or this would be perfect if only James were here." Michael lifted a hand tentatively to James' face in the dim light and stroked his cheek with his thumb. He'd so firmly believed this could never be between himself and James that he'd never dared want it.

James was, for once in his life, speechless. He looked at Michael with eyes whose pupils were blown so wide there was only a strip of blue for an iris. "You are home to me," Michael whispered, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to James' lips, and then bracing his hand against the wall when James returned it a little more enthusiastically than Michael had been expecting.

 

 

James dropped his water bottle and both men ignored it as it rolled across the floor, frantically kissing each other, tongues delving sloppily as they devoured each other. Michael pressed James against the wall with his hips and growled in pleasure as James wrapped his legs around Michael's waist.

Michael ground his hips against James, biting his neck harder now, feeling very satisfied that he might be making marks.

"Oh, fuck, mate," James gasped. "Ah. Um. Bedroom?"

Michael didn't reply verbally, but he started walking towards James' bedroom with James still wrapped around him. He did stop kissing the other man long enough to peek over his shoulder and make sure he wasn't walking them into any walls, and James took advantage of the moment to sink his teeth into Michael's neck and make his own mark. Michael groaned at the feeling which would have been more painful if he wasn't quite so turned on.

"I want...I want to touch you. Everywhere," Michael said in a guttural voice. He dropped James on his bed, not gently, and started unbuttoning James' jeans, both intensely curious and somewhat intimidated when he freed James' cock. He stroked the head with his thumb and smiled at James' hissed intake of breath. He looked at James and saw him smiling down at Michael with half-lidded eyes.

"I don't expect," James started to say when Michael swiped his tongue across the head of James' cock and James abruptly made a choked sound and stopped speaking. James' cock was hot and smooth and the drop of liquid at the end was salty and slippery. Michael tried to think of what women had done to him that he'd enjoyed, and he licked more around the head, feeling pleased when James groaned and fisted the sheets.

And then intimidation overtook him. He wasn't afraid, exactly, but he wasn't sure if there was a trick to performing fellatio and he didn't want to ruin the mood by making a mistake now.

"Come here," James breathed, and Michael pulled up next to him on the bed. James kicked his own pants the rest of the way off and pushed Michael on his back. James climbed on top of Michael, unbuttoning and unzipping Michael's pants, pulling them down, and then straddling him.

James removed Michael's pants completely before he turned his attention to Michael's cock. "Fuck me," he breathed, wrapping a hand around it.

"Can I?" Michael asked with a grin, trying not to jolt like an adolescent at the feel of James' hand on his cock.

James raised his eyebrows at Michael. "I honestly don't know how you fit this inside anyone."

Michael laughed and pulled James down so he was lying on top of Michael. They both gasped as their cocks slid by each other.

"Do you have any...?" Michael asked, as James stretched for a drawer.

"On it," the Scottish man said, squirting some lotion into his hand and then reaching down to spread it on both their cocks. James groaned as he rocked his hips so that his cock slid easily across Michael's tight lower abdomen.

"Fuck, I feel like I'm a kid again," Michael confessed in a breathy voice, as both naked men rutted against each other. James crushed his lips into a bruising kiss, his own hips moving faster against his friend.

Michael moved both of his hands onto James' buttocks, squeezing tight and using his grip to move James up and down against him. He dared to stroked a finger down James' cleft after a few minutes and immediately after heard a strangled cry from James as he came between them.

Michael slowed down in deference to James' cock probably being very sensitive right after, although he was close himself and aching to finish. James slid off to Michael's right side and tugged Michael so he was lying on his side as well. James gripped Michael's cock.

"Tell me how you like it," James demanded, stroking Michael's cock with his right hand, harder and rougher than Michael usually jerked himself but for some reason it was perfect coming from James.

"Just like that," Michael gasped, as James bit his neck again, probably leaving another bruise.

Michael thought about people seeing him covered in bitemarks from James and he came then, with a loud groan, and James immediately loosened his grip and slowed his strokes.

Breathing heavily, Michael reached out a hand and pushed some sweaty strands of hair out of James' face. He was overcome with a feeling so intense it nearly brought tears to his eyes, and for a moment he didn't recognize it. It was tender and fond and fierce all at the same time...

"I love you," Michael gasped, almost sounding surprised, as he recognized the feeling.

"James. I love you. And I don't--" he paused to shake his head and laugh a little at the surprise and newness of it all. "It doesn't even matter to me if you don't. I love you, and I'm just so happy that you are my friend."

"Michael," James said softly, and Michael looked into his friend's eyes, surprised to see them glistening. "Are we really just friends?"

Michael pulled James into his arms, needing to hold him close, even though they were both sweaty and sticky. "We're whatever you want to be, James. I'm just happy we are."

Michael felt James pressing a kiss to his clavicle. "Me too," he whispered.

And for the first time in a long time, Michael felt like he was home.

**Author's Note:**

> [Alby's art is on Tumblr here](http://artgroves.tumblr.com/post/119726308639/just-some-gingers-for-feels-like-coming-home)


End file.
